


Becoming Boyfriends

by Coquetlouis



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Louis, Boyfriends, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dominant Harry, Fingering, Fluff, Gay, Harry Styles - Freeform, Harry is a boss, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Romance, Smut, Straight Harry, Submissive Louis, Top Harry, louis gets insecure, louis has a daddy kink, louis writes questions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 13:57:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12322395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coquetlouis/pseuds/Coquetlouis
Summary: Harry and Louis had quite an interesting start. Harry was straight; Louis wasn't. Louis was taken; Harry wasn't. Things seem to suddenly fall into place after a romantic night resulting in Louis never leaving. However, after weeks of living together, Harry is unsure if he's prepared to officially date a man, and Louis deals with his own insecurities.





	Becoming Boyfriends

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of my series. If you haven't checked out the first of the series, it is called Little Man and it is a spectacular read! Please leave feedback, and let me know if you'd like me to continue on with their love story. Thank you always for reading and voting.

 

  
Louis Tomlinson was called many things throughout his life: asshole, smartass, weirdo, faggot, obnoxious, gold-digger, among other titles. Harry liked to call him his little man.

 

  
They weren't exactly official; Harry was still warming up to the idea of being completely whipped for another man. He had never been with another like Louis. His past was littered with smart yet dependent women, and the change was taking time for him to be fully comfortable with.

 

  
That wasn't to say they weren't moving quickly beyond labels. The lovers had shared a bed for the past two months, never raising questions as to when Louis was planning on finding his own place.

 

  
Since he'd been kicked out of his old apartment with ex Zayn, Harry left his home open for the boy, and it never closed. No, Harry wouldn't do that. He'd never admit it aloud, but he was smitten for the little man.

 

  
Louis returned the feelings, and he was constantly expressing it with romantic words, delicious dinners, and sweet gestures. In the morning, he'd serve the first warm crepes to Harry. On their drives to the store, he'd deliver a rub to the man's constantly tense shoulders. In bed, he'd suck him off without Harry even asking for head.

 

  
The boy was so sure, and Harry almost felt guilty that he was dragging his feet when it came to making their relationship official. He knew Louis had hidden insecurities; the boy worried about Harry's past, wondering if he'd ever get tired and sneak off to a woman.

 

  
When Harry went to bed, he always found Lou fervently writing in a leather book, always slapping it shut as soon as the other came near.

 

  
Besides this and the fact that Harry's once spotless apartment was now a disaster, the two were in paradise with each other.

 

  
On a usual Tuesday morning, Harry woke to smell something besides the disastrous crepes Louis always made. It's not that he didn't try to like them, but the boy made them constantly to fill his own obsession with them, and Harry was getting exhausted of them.

 

  
Instead, it smelled like bacon, and excitement was in the pit of his stomach at the thought. He was currently working at the local hospital, helping out in the emergency room until he got his medical degree. He was nearly there; graduation was only in a couple of months, and Louis was completely supportive.

 

  
The boy got up before Harry ever did and treated him to breakfast, and usually there was enough time for them to watch a documentary of Lou's choice on the couch before Harry had to dash.

 

  
He dragged himself out of their comfortable sheets, shuffling to the kitchen to see Louis flipping a chocolate chip pancake. It was better than crepes.

 

  
Bacon and sausage were on plates, rested on the counter near Harry. He picked up a piece, munching on the corner while he watched the smaller boy.

 

  
"Morning," he greeted, leaning against the island with bacon in his mouth.

 

  
Louis turned, looking delighted to see the man. "Oh hello, Dr. Man. How many lives do you plan on saving today while I lounge on your couch?"

 

  
Harry snorted, reaching over to pinch at the boy's bum, which was covered in plaid pajama pants. "You know all I'll be doing is sitting at the desk, wishing I were."

 

  
"You're almost there, baby." Louis turned his head, leaning up to kiss the man's cheek. "Pancakes are up." he announced, flipping the chocolatey food onto a plate.

 

  
"Thank you, I appreciate this."

 

  
"You tell me this every single morning," Louis grinned, turning off the stove and heading towards the fridge. Instead of being full of beer and different liqueurs, it held fruit and dairy products and healthy shit Louis insisted on getting.

 

  
Harry barely drank anymore, unless he and Louis were having wine in the evening. His time was always being spent with Louis. He wasn't complaining; before, it was at the bars.

 

  
The pair ate together at the table, smiling at each other and keeping up with light conversation. Louis did most of the talking, really. Harry just listened and admired from afar, coming up with things to write about the boy later.

 

  
"I hope you understand," Louis spoke tenderly, swiping his fork over the chocolate on his plate, licking it up.

 

  
Harry was snapped from his thoughts, furrowing his eyebrows at the boy. "Understand what?" he questioned, taking a bite of sausage.

 

  
Louis laughed it off, not fazed at all. He knew how the other's mind worked by now, and he wasn't offended by any means. "Silly mister man. I said I'm going to start looking for a job, and I'm sorry for how long it's taking, and I hope you understand."

 

  
Harry nodded quickly, swallowing down his bite of breakfast. "Of course. Take as much time as you need. What kind of job are you wanting?"

 

  
Louis blushed a bit, taking a sip of freshly brewed coffee. "Well, I want to write more than anything, but I know how it is. Not everybody can turn out like J.K. fucking Rowling." he mumbled, staring down at his plate.

 

  
Harry stayed silent, finding words with great difficulty. It was a known fact that he was horrible at comforting, and he was slowly getting better with encouragement (nagging) from Louis. "You're a beautiful writer."

 

  
He was honored enough to have writings created about him, and Louis was always reluctant to show them, but they were beautiful and made him feel valuable.

 

  
Louis was smiling gently, gazing over at Harry while he took small bites of pancakes. "Baby, you ought to get ready for work. You'll be late." He was picking up on Harry's habit of changing the subject when things got sentimental, and it was driving Harry crazy.

 

  
"Alright, sweetheart." he sighed, standing from his spot at the table and taking his plate to the sink. He was full of the bacon, sausage, and chocolate chip pancakes Louis made for him anyway.

 

  
Louis was finishing up his own breakfast, following Harry quickly after to wash his own plate. "Don't worry about the dishes. I've got it," he offered. His guilt about never being able to contribute to rent payments or anything else was leaving him wanting to do everything else he could do to help.

 

  
"Thank you. I've got to change," Harry kissed the top of his boy's head, squeezing at his hip gently. "Tonight we can have some time together, okay?" he assured him, dreading going to work. He wanted to spend his day with Louis, who was looking very appealing in his plaid pajama bottoms and fluffy hair.

 

  
Louis beamed at him, blue eyes sparkling while he stared at Harry. "Of course. Maybe a shower to clean you up from all of those hospital germs," he teased, hugging the man's middle.

 

  
Harry scoffed and pressed the boy's soft head to his chest, kissing at it mindlessly before stalking off to change into his scrubs.

 

  
He enjoyed his job, but he didn't enjoy leaving for it. It was almost like leaving a new puppy at home, and it made him guilty when Louis would look at him with lonely eyes and kiss him repeatedly until Harry had to force him off to go.

 

  
This Tuesday was the same way. Once Harry readied himself and went downstairs to grab his keys and head out, Louis was on him before you could say "clingy." He was hugging on him, whining about how he wished he could stay and telling him (very seductively, mind him) what they were going to do when Harry got back.

 

  
By the time he was out of the door, the man was slightly hard and definitely frustrated, stomping off to his car. It took many mumbled chants of "I love my job" for Harry to calm himself and drive to work.

 

  
The hospital was dead. Most of the patients were shabby people lying about pain in order to get some sort of narcotic, and Harry was just sitting at the desk anyway. He admitted them in, answered phone calls, and scribbled down stuff on papers.

 

  
The only form of entertainment he had was the texts from Louis. The boy seemed just as infatuated with Harry as he was, which was a refreshing and new feeling.

 

  
He got text messages from Louis, one which said: Hello my Mister Man! I have created a list of songs that remind me of you to pass this long, dreadful time apart!

 

  
Harry gave a laugh at that one, insisting that he wanted to hear them as soon as he got home so they could enjoy them together. This was not the first time Louis made a list. In fact, he was always making lists.

 

  
He had a list of fifty-seven questions he had for Harry, which every night Harry would choose a number and Louis would ask the question that went with it. He also had a list of his kinks, which he would compare to Harry's and edit to make it THEIR kink list. Harry was almost certain that Louis documented every time they touched too, for after every blow job or fingering or time in bed together, the boy would be seen scrawling quickly in his journal.

 

  
It endeared him in a way, for he knew lists were Louis's strange form of love.

 

  
With Louis's constant texts and updates, Harry was growing more excited to get home from work. He used to find work to be his refuge, along with drinking, but now he found the most safety in a pair of blue eyes. Lou's eyes were like crystal balls, and Harry saw his future in them.

 

  
Rather than checking on the security cameras or doing any secretarial work, Harry sat and envisioned himself with Louis. He knew they'd be watching some crime documentary, or maybe a medical one if Harry ever got to choose. Louis would curl up innocently on his chest, staying quiet while his hand would tease throughout the film until Harry had him pinned on the couch.

 

  
Louis had the biggest sex drive the man had ever encountered, and it was almost hard to keep up with his antics. However, he did his best, and he never complained. It was wonderful. He loved that Louis was so addicted to him.

 

  
"Hello, Harry."

 

  
Scarlett, his flirtatious coworker, was walking towards the front desk. She was a nurse, but she wasn't exactly a good one. She tended to pay more attention to Harry than her patients. Normally, he would've liked this, but he was with Louis now.

 

  
"Hullo," he spoke dully, eyes training on his computer monitor to avoid seeing her cleavage, which was being enhanced by her elbows resting on the desk, pressing her chest together.

 

  
She apparently didn't notice his aloofness, or maybe she got off from it, because she continued to beam at him with vivid red lips. "You seem to be very distracted today. What's on your mind, hm?"

 

  
Harry wanted to tell her it was the thought of his boyfriend's mouth on his cock, but he knew he didn't even have a boyfriend. Yet.

 

  
"I suppose I didn't get enough sleep," he forced on a small smile, watching as her eyes narrowed on him and her elbows shifted closer, so more of her cleavage was spilling out. He didn't like it as much as he might've used to.

 

  
"I know the feeling," she whispered, perhaps trying to be seductive but Harry was just feeling violated. They both jumped a bit at his phone going off.

 

  
"Ah, Louis." he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders simply.

 

  
She had heard of the name, but she was never told who it was. "Louis?"

 

  
Before Harry could explain that he was the one exclusively riding Harry as of a few weeks ago, a code blue was called and Scarlett had to rush off to attempt resuscitation.

 

  
"Close call." he sighed to himself, feeling guilty that he was relieved over someone dying to save him from his awkward situation. He answered Louis's text about tacos for dinner, shaking his head at himself.

 

  
Work was a breeze during the ending half of the shift, and Harry was more than pleased to get out and spend some time with his roommate. That's what he was labeled as for now.

 

 

Louis was already waiting for Harry like a lovesick puppy by the time he unlocked the door to his flat. His tiny frame was sat on the couch, arms wrapped around his knees while a show played on the telly.

 

 

"Evening, baby." Harry greeted with a yawn, immediately being hit with the smell of what he could only identify as Mexican food.

 

 

Louis practically lunged towards the man, smiling brightly and engulfing the much larger human with a hug. "Just evening? Shouldn't you be saying good evening? Isn't it good?" He was rambling on, massaging the man's shoulders.

 

 

Harry, being the tired frog he was, merely shrugged and accepted the hug lazily before stalking off to the kitchen, Louis hot on his heels. "Maybe you're right." He mumbled when he saw the delicious dinner on the counter. 

 

 

Louis had prepared a taco bar, one that could certainly feed more than just the pair. Harry wondered how much Lou thought he ate.

 

 

"I wanted to wait for you so we can enjoy them together." Louis announced proudly, as though it took a lot from him to avoid eating.

 

 

"I appreciate it, Lou. What've you done today?" Harry was fumbling with a plate, turning to get a good look at Louis for the first time since he got home.

 

 

He was gorgeous in his soft, cotton t-shirt. The lilac color contrasted his tanned skin nicely, and the black jeans pairing with it were rolled to reveal pretty, dainty ankles. They had tattoos.

 

 

Louis was a sight to behold. Harry remembered the first time they had touched, and he fondly looked back on how he realized then he'd never seen anyone prettier.

 

 

The metal bars hooked through his nipples were peeking through the thin fabric, antagonizing Harry while he did his best to focus on the food instead of Louis. He couldn't decide which was more appetizing.

 

 

"Well, I did some painting. I also searched for jobs. I'm applying for some small jobs for now, until I can figure out a real plan." Louis was the complete opposite of Harry.

 

 

His words were always brisk and put together smoothly, as though he needn't think when he speak. It was all automatic, fast, light.

 

 

Harry's words were meticulous and excruciatingly slow, always leaving Louis on the edge of his seat. He found it hard to form his thoughts so fast, and he liked to make sure each word had specific meaning.

 

 

Louis always joked that if they were poets, he'd be Walt Whitman and Harry would be Emily Dickinson.

 

 

"Yeah? Any job stick out to you?" Harry asked mindlessly, rubbing over the boy's hip as he passed to add some cheese to the bowl of toppings and crushed taco shells he had.

 

 

"Well," Louis paused for a moment to fling sour cream from a spoon to his tortilla, "I think I like the cafe around the corner. It's very cozy."

 

 

"Sounds wonderful, baby." The man hummed, leaning down to kiss on top of the feathery hair, wanting him closer but finding it hard to voice that. "What're you watching tonight?"

 

 

Louis tilted his head up and threw a mischievous smile, to which Harry immediately groaned aloud at. "No, not him."

 

 

But yes, it was indeed him. As they settled down on the couch with their dinner, the famed television star was talking to a belligerent teenage girl.

 

 

"He's so wise." Louis admired him, jaw practically gaping and eyes focused on the old tosser.

 

 

Harry scoffed, internally scolding himself for being jealous of fucking Dr. Phil. "He doesn't even have a degree in what he does."

 

 

He'd never admit it, but since Louis's obsession, Harry had researched the guy just to have some negative things to throw out. "Staged, too. All staged."

 

 

"He's a genius," Louis ignored Harry, munching on his soft taco.

 

 

"Baby, please. Let me pick something tonight," Harry gave him a frown, nudging his nose against the boy's defined cheekbone.

 

 

Louis succumbed practically immediately once commercials aired, being known for his complete impatience with anything he had to wait for.

 

 

They finally settled for a romantic movie of Harry's choice, and they curled up next to each other on the comfortable couch. Harry was realizing then that his bachelor pad was quickly becoming a love nest. 

 

 

He didn't mind, as long as Louis was there to take care of him like this.

 

 

His hands were twined around Louis, soon having the boy curl up on his legs like a lapdog. His eyes were trained on the television as the couple kissed passionately in the rain.

 

 

Harry had never experienced such a cliche romance with anyone, and he was secretly glad that he hadn't. His cold, aloof soul was never attached to lovers.

 

 

At the thought, his eyes trailed down to Louis and he swallowed thickly, brushing a thumb down his lightly stubbled cheek.

 

 

Louis would certainly wish for a cliche relationship, Harry decided. He'd want the full package, he knew—marriage, children, and a large house.

 

 

The man knew he couldn't give all of those things to Louis, at least not for a very long time. It was still difficult for him to believe that Louis deserved someone like him.

 

 

However, Harry imagined Louis marrying a tall, faceless man and bearing his babies, and it left an ache in his chest. He'd never accept it, and he'd never be the same if it happened.

 

 

He realized Louis was now watching him rather than the movie, a look of concern fluttering across his face. "Harry, baby. Are you feeling alright?" He whispered in the smooth, British accent he possessed.

 

 

Flickering his eyes away at the tempting thumb dragging along his mouth, the man swallowed and nodded. "Yes, it's just been a long day."

 

 

Louis did not seem to believe him by the hesitance on his face, but he nodded rather than press him, and his hand dropped onto his own chest. He was laying his head in Harry's lap, turned towards the movie once more.

 

 

"There's a woman at work," Harry blurted out suddenly, feeling his entire face go slack in shock of his own big mouth.

 

 

Louis went rigid on his lap; it was as though his worst fear at finally become a reality. He should've know Harry would fall for a female; a more /natural/ candidate.

 

 

Refusing to jump to conclusions, though, the boy merely replied, "Is that so?"

 

 

Harry felt stupid. More than stupid. How could he have just done that to Louis? A creature within him, however, was preening at the sight of a jealous, worried Louis. It made him ashamed to feel happy about it.

 

 

He wanted to reassure Louis; take his hand and place it over his lips so he could just shut up and kiss on the smooth skin. "Her name's Scarlett."

 

 

The tops of Louis's ears went that exact color, and he shifted to lay on his back in Harry's lap. His pretty blue eyes were staring up at his Harry, brows furrowed in confusion and worry.

 

 

Harry went to speak, but he was cut off by a faint, hollow voice that didn't even sound like Louis's. "If she's someone who can make you happier, just spit it out."

 

 

The larger man appeared shocked for a moment, shaking his head quickly and resting a hand on Louis's abdomen. "No, no. That's not it, Lou. I don't -- I don't want that." He was stammering like a fool, his hair falling into his face from the wild jerks of his head.

 

 

Louis watched carefully, his eyes hurting Harry by how distant they appeared, no longer as warm as just a few minutes before. "Baby." Harry spoke firmly, brushing the fringe off of the boy's forehead.

 

  
He finally appeared to be coming out of it, chewing on his bottom lip and relaxing at the single word. "Then what is it?" He murmured, curling up his legs and holding on to Harry.

 

 

"She's just been harping after me. I shouldn't have told you," he sighed, recalling the vivid red lips speaking of Louis, as though she knew him.

 

 

"Does she know?" Louis whispered carefully, slowly beginning to sit up, which secretly disappointed Harry. "About me?"

 

 

"She knows of you." He spoke vaguely, unwilling to admit that every time he tried to mention how he was smitten with a tiny, brown-haired boy from Doncaster, he was interrupted.

 

 

Louis did not look comforted, but he gave a soft nod of his head, too reserved and gentle to truly and argue about it. "I'm going to clean up dinner," he whispered.

 

 

Harry caught him by the wrist, held it tightly in his hand while Louis went to stand. He brought the boy down, holding his small cheek to press a fervent kiss to his mouth.

 

 

"I want you." He spoke slowly, surely not as quickly as Louis always did, and his cheeks were flushing at his own behavior. He was never one to be so open.

 

 

Louis nodded, reaching up to kiss his forehead before escaping the living room with their plates. He began washing the dishes, cleaning up the bits of cheese and tomato left on the counter.

 

 

The boy left Harry on his own, staring at the television and wondering why he was the way he was. For the first time ever, he'd encountered someone who held so much care for him, and all he did was terrify him with mentions of his deepest insecurities.

 

  
But perhaps, seeing Louis's insecurities reassured Harry's in a twisted way. He felt selfish at the thought, and he shook his head at himself. Louis didn't deserve to be toyed with; he had already been through enough. Zayn already broke his heart into pieces.

 

  
Harry was there to mend, not to break even further. He just hoped his mouth wouldn't start running again.

 

  
Louis didn't come back into the living room. It was getting late, Harry supposed. Shifting around, the man finally found the remote and shut off the movie. While he knew he liked space when he was upset, he knew Louis did everything the opposite of him, so he went to seek him.

 

  
"Lou?" he croaked out, approaching his bedroom with a concerned gleam in his eyes.

 

  
At first, he didn't think that the boy was in bed, but he spotted him beneath the large duvet with the leather-bound notebook clutched in a hand, the other scribbling wildly onto the cream paper.

 

  
He didn't peer up from his notebook, but his face was completely relaxed. However, there was a distinct gleam in his eyes that unsettled Harry.

 

  
"Baby." he spoke more firmly, approaching the bed to sit on the edge and rest his hand over Lou's thigh.

 

  
The boy flicked his eyes up, and he swallowed hard. It was a soft silence, leaving the both of them to be caught up in their minds and staring at one another. Harry was searching through his thoughts, trying to collect ones worthy of speaking.

 

  
"Can I ask more than one question from my list tonight?" the small boy whispered into the room, eyes glimmering brightly while he kept them focused on his lover.

 

  
Harry pursed his lips for a moment, always secretly dreading answering the typically complicated questions Louis asked. The answers were always documented word for word beneath each question.

 

  
"Okay," he whispered after a few beats more of the silence, giving a confirmative nod of his head.

 

  
Louis sat up more at the response, nodding and flipping through the pages of his leather journal. It seemed to take hours for him to find a suitable question, one that he found worthy to be asked during their time together.

 

  
Finally, the boy gave a sharp clear of his throat, pausing hesitantly before quietly asking, "How much is your love for me in inches?"

 

  
This was certainly not the expected form of question, which caused Harry's gaze to falter. They'd never declared love for each other, but the endearing way Louis decided to ask left him in a frenzy of infatuation for him. Who thought of these things?

 

  
"Inches?" he couldn't help but crack a smile despite the fact his face had paled.

 

  
Louis's eyes softened, the intensity weakening while he pressed the journal firmly against his chest. "Yes, a small American measurement."

 

  
"I know what inches are, Louis." Harry chuckled breathlessly, staring at him. Did he love Louis? That was the real question.

 

  
How could he not? The boy had been the closest companion to him, and they'd only been shacked up for a couple of weeks. The way Louis stared at him made it known that the boy would do virtually anything for Harry. The little actions throughout the day were constant forms of reassurance.

 

  
Declaring love was not Harry's best talent. He couldn't ever form the words or even imagine telling Louis them without feeling a bit queasy. Of course, they'd made love and showed it in all of the physical forms that Harry could do. Now, here they were-- Harry being pressured to speak it.

 

  
But then, he came to the realization his sweetest Louis was trying to make it easier for him. He was asking for numbers rather than the words; inches rather than love. Reassurance, all the same, for Louis. The boy was speaking Harry's language. 

 

  
Harry couldn't suppress his soft smile while he watched Louis, squeezing on his thigh through the duvet. "Hmm," he raised a hand to brush over his chin thoughtfully. "I suppose seven-hundred and sixty-nine inches should be sufficient, hm? But perhaps it expands everyday."

 

  
Louis melted. His eyes were now wide and watery, and he stroked the leather cover of his journal as though it were Harry's hand. "I suppose I'll just have to ask every night then," he played along, his teeth nudging into his own lower lip while he grinned.

 

  
Harry was relieved to see that his boy was softening up, and he reached over to brush back his fringe affectionately. "Alright." he whispered, his eyes trailing all over the boy's features. He was gorgeous.

 

  
"I have more questions." he murmured, lifting up his journal once more. Louis took his pencil and scratched down what presumably was Harry's answer to the first question of the night.

 

  
"One more," Harry sighed, wanting more than anything to scoop him up and lay him out, please him until he was gasping.

 

  
"Fine," Louis couldn't resist giving him a gentle smile, flipping to a different page. "Do I remind you of her?"

 

  
The her that Louis was referring to, Harry knew not. He merely stared at the boy, frowning a bit. Nobody reminded him of Louis. Louis was his own individual with many unique characteristics and complex personality. No woman compared.

 

  
"No, never have and never will." Harry spoke firmly, taking the journal and shutting it to Louis's panicked protests. "I'm not looking, baby. You need to stop these insecurities. It's you I want. What more can I do to prove it?"

 

  
Louis suddenly appeared guilty, giving a hesitant nod of his head. With gentle hands, he clasped them around Harry's wrists, tugging him in close so their lips could mold together perfectly. They always did so well; their kisses were fervent and genuine, passionate and protective.

 

  
Within moments, they were tugging at one another's clothes, as though it were impossible not to.

 

  
Harry brushed his lips over the shell of the boy's ear, grasping his hips so he could guide his own down to dig into Lou. "Such a good boy, always good." He was breathing out praises for his lover, their lips constantly attached.

 

  
The only time they broke apart was when Harry swiped his lips over the protruding collarbones, leaving nibbles over the skin.

 

  
Louis nodded quickly, watching his lover with affectionate eyes and a floating heart. He was in paradise when it was just them, laying in bed and clutching each other.

 

  
He felt his cheeks heat with pink at the kisses to his skin, blushing like a schoolboy at the man. "Oh, Harry," he murmured before their lips connected once more, his hand tugging at his trousers.

 

  
With his lover's help, they managed to pull off both his pants and boxers, exposing the man's hardened sex under the dim light of the bedroom.

 

  
Louis carefully wrapped his own dainty hand around the man's length, moaning himself at the complete and utter arousal he felt so suddenly. Harry always got such a reaction from him. Perhaps it was his toned body, or maybe it was the gaze he always gave Lou. Either way, it was perfect.

 

  
"Touch me," Louis pleaded in a whisper, the journal forgotten on the floor and the blankets shoved to the side for their bodies to be touching.

 

  
Harry didn't have to be asked twice. HIs hands immediately lifted from their place to roam around Louis's soft skin. His fingers pressed against the curve of his bum, rubbing and squeezing before they were lowering to caress the inside of his delicious thighs.

 

  
Louis's lips parted at the touches to his bum and thighs, shifting beneath them with a certain ache growing in his stomach.

 

  
His fingers toyed around the band of Louis's boxers, letting them linger there for a few seconds before tugging the layer down enough to free Louis from his tight confines.

 

  
A pleasured moan escaped Louis, and he lifted his hips as his own boxers were slipped off of him. "Oh Harry," he murmured, his eyes dilated and glossed with lust for the man.

 

  
"I dream of doing so many things with you," he hummed, voice clearly laden with lust just as he felt his own length twitch against his touch. "So many," he cooed, taking him around his hand, his rough palm contrasting with Louis's smooth skin.

 

  
The petite boy was desperate for the man, his hand moving across his lover with a gentle pressure while he accepted the own touches to his body. A whimper slipped past his swollen lips while he gazed at his lover with wide eyes. "I love you more than you can imagine, Harry baby," he whispered, tightening his hand around him.

 

 

His thumb swiped over Harry's tip, hoping to have him soon. The boy was beginning to grow desperate for him, wanting him in every way he could.

 

  
Harry felt the thumb swipe across him, collecting the small bead of precum that escaped from his tip. He slightly shifted from above him, his chest rising and falling as he took short breaths. He could feel the grip tightening around him, causing him to groan.

 

  
His hands were lifted once again to place over Louis's backside, rubbing and squeezing at the curves. "Show me," he whispered back, exhaling sharply whenever Lou's hand would move around him.

 

  
At the challenge, Lou's heart was beating rapidly. He was unable to halt the rises and falls of his chest as Harrison rested above him. With a soft sigh, his hand slipped off of the man's length to Harry's discontentment.

 

  
Suddenly, the pair were flipping over so that Louis was straddling an aroused Harry. "Fuck, Lou." Harry cursed, eyeing the boy with fond eyes. He scrambled to remove the cotton shirt, wanting to reveal the pretty nipple piercings.

 

  
Louis was stark naked on top of him, taking Harry's hands and resting them on his own arse. "Harry," he spoke, pushing his bum and swiveling back against the large hands that gripped them. He appeared bashful for a moment, as though he were embarrassed.

 

  
"I was wondering if we could go against the wall," he whispered suddenly, feeling his own cheeks heat up with every syllable uttered off of his sinful lips. He twirled the man's hair around his fingers, eyes hooded as he peppered kisses over his face.

 

  
Harry's eyes fluttered open from the momentary close, aching for more of his touch. "Louis," he said breathily, fingers digging into his skin, constantly feeling desperate for the tiny hand to be wrapped around him once more.

 

  
He listened to the words his boy had to say, but it was still hard to process. Louis was filthy, dirty, naughty. He squeezed harder on his backside before lowering his hands back down his thighs, wrapping his hands around them tightly.

 

  
In one fluid motion, Harry was lifting the small male up into his arms. He rose from the bed and kept Louis's legs around his waist, gripping the back of his thick thighs to keep him from falling. He continued to move until the boy was pressed against the wall, both of Harry's hands remaining in their rightful place.

 

  
Louis appeared to certainly enjoy what was occurring. Throughout being carried, his lips were messily running over the man's jaw, stroking at his hair, and biting at his earlobe.

 

  
"This is what you want, Lou?" Harry hummed, lowering his head to kiss at the corner of Louis's plush lips. Louis enjoyed nothing more than hearing his name slipped from the other's lips.

 

  
The boy nodded his head, cheeks blazed red as he tilted his head, desperately connecting their lips together.

 

  
Harry's lips parted against the kiss, allowing the soft groan to slip past his lips when their bodies aligned. He felt his tip brush against Louis, leaving him in a tortured state.

 

  
His breath washed over Louis, his own lips hovering over his boy's after to leave a trail down his jaw, sucking and nipping whenever his head would lower. His hand lifted, pressing Louis firmly against the wall.

 

  
Harry's thumb swiped across the male's savory bottom lip, requesting for entry. He was immediately granted access, and the man took the opportunity to slip his fingers in.

 

  
Louis was breathing fast, breathless at every touch and squirming constantly until his lover's hand steadied him.

 

  
Only the man's fingers could stop him from chanting out the incessant, "Daddy, oh daddy."

 

  
The boy was panting, slurping over the long digits pressed between his teeth. His eyes were glued to the green abysses Harry possessed, and he was entranced by the determined gleam in Harry's eyes.

 

  
"Mine, Louis." he whispered hoarsely, withdrawing after to circle his wet fingers against Louis's rim, rubbing in small circles to ease up the delicate man.

 

  
Louis's head fell back against the wall in reaction to the touches towards his sensitive entrance. "Yeah, please." he whimpered, chewing on his lower lip while he gazed at Harry.

 

  
Silent songs were ringing in Harry's ears while he watched Louis plead for him, crumble at the smallest trace of touch to his vulnerable skin. Only Louis could make him this terribly allured.

 

  
His breaths were ripped off from his chest as he struggled to stifle the low groan from rumbling off of him, and he was only further encouraged as he slipped a finger past the boy's ring of muscle. His grip was tight on Louis's thigh with his other hand, keeping him pinned against the wall.

 

  
Louis's eyes were glued to the man, becoming undone by soft touches. He kept Harry clamped between his own thighs, holding him close with steady kisses to his mouth, or wherever else he could reach.

 

"Always so good for me, baby," Harry hummed, pressing their naked chests together, hair tickling the skin of his shoulders as his lips attacked Lou's sensitive neck. He sucked and licked, his fingers continuing to drag inside of Louis.

 

"Always for you, daddy. Always." Louis moaned out in a slur, unsure of what he was saying half of the time. His head tilted, allowing the pair of lips to caress his neck.

 

His moans were never ceasing as he used his lover's broad, muscly shoulders as leverage to shift up and down against his fingers.

 

Suddenly, Harry's lips slammed onto Louis's, keeping them in a rough kiss. After a few moments of temporary pleasure, Harry withdrew his hand completely, only to grip him back up easily.

 

  
Louis swore the air was knocked from his lungs as soon as Harry's hardened length replaced his long, pianist fingers.

 

  
Harry's cock brushed over the boy's tight entrance once, leaving it begging for attention. He had to force himself to pull away, nudging their noses together once.

 

  
"Am I doing okay?" He asked quietly, searching the boy's eyes for any sign of disinterest. Having only been with women before Louis, he still had his own insecurities and worries when it came to them being intimate.

 

  
Louis felt the harsh nips on his neck after Harry spoke, and he reveled in the lifts of the man's hips every so often that left his tip to brush back against Louis.

 

  
He slipped his fingers into Harry's hair, weak in his grasp as his head floated with unfulfilled pleasure. "If you were fucking me you'd be doing even better," he whispered, holding back the cries that wanted to burst out at the constant teasing.

 

  
He held the man's rosy cheeks between two shaky palms, moving Harry's lips away from his neck so he could focus on him better. "Look at me, baby." he murmured and stroked at his brunet curls, wanting to see his lover while they pleasured each other.

 

  
Harry obliged immediately, eyes flicking upwards to meet with the gaze of his crystal eyes. He held his gaze for a few seconds longer, darting back and forth between his eyes in the close proximity.

 

  
Louis felt himself diverting his full attention to his lover's visage, studying the color of his eyes and how dilated his pupils were. He imagined his were as well, for he was in love.

 

  
Slowly, Harry lowered the male in his arms down to meet with his length. His muscles strained at the weight of holding his boy up, but he ignored it completely.

 

  
Louis didn't have time to think once he was pushed into, his nails digging into his Harry's scalp.

 

  
Their movements were minimal, leaving Louis only to squirm at his own pace while he lowered himself with Harry's help.

 

  
Their foreheads were pressed together, keeping their bodies as close as possible. Harry's jaw was slack, lips were parted, eyes were shutting at the first thrust. He fluttered them open after, eyes heavy as he moved hips upwards, watching his lover as he did so.

 

  
"I love you, Louis." he slurred, giving him a quick kiss, but immediately pulling away to flash him a lazy, pleasured grin.

 

  
"Harry," Lou whimpered out, feeling the wonderful stretch and pain that was worth every second of discomfort. A grin covered his face at the other's words, and it gave him a surge of confidence he'd otherwise never have.

 

  
"Be with me, Harry," he urged the male between heavy breaths, his lips sloppily brushing over his jawline. "I mean it. Want you mine, be mine." He persisted.

 

  
Harry dipped his head back down to continue kissing on the boy's bruising neck, feeling his pulse point below his lips as he pushed forward, giving more of himself to Louis.

 

  
Releasing an intense exhale, Harry nodded quickly and forced his eyes to remain open so he could watch the sweet boy.

 

  
"I'm yours, whether it be officially or not, I'm yours." Harry muttered against his ear, voice thick and gravelly as he spoke between his slow, steady rocks into the boy. He lifted one of the boy's legs, allowing for him to thrust into Lou easily.

 

"Everybody knows I'm yours, just like how you are mine," he was speaking between heavy breaths, tongue prodding out to circle around Lou's salty skin.

 

Louis's hair was already beginning to stick to his forehead, the light layer of perspire forming across his body. His nails were digging into Harry's shoulders while the couple shifted in sync.

 

He winced lightly at every press into him. They were painful pleasures that left him aching, and he was moaning lowly at the marks forming on his neck.

 

"Fuck, yes, Harry. I'm yours, I'm your baby," he cried out, attempting to keep his voice to a minimum while his nails began to trail down, clawing at the man's back. "You're mine, oh fuck," he stammered, tripping over his own words due to the distracting ecstasy.

 

Harry couldn't resist groaning from Louis's words, finding it difficult to ever keep calm after such sweet and filthy talking. It encouraged him to keep the pace of his thrusts, which left the veins in his arms to throb out.

 

He was lifting his head to kiss on the boy, enjoying the way his nails dug into the skin of his back. The kiss was urgent, and soon enough the rhythm of his thrusts matched with the kiss they shared.

 

Now that Louis was adjusted and enjoying himself, Harry hooked his hands around his legs, pressing himself firmly against the little figure, which made it easier for himself to slam into his sex.

 

"Or you could be mine officially," he whispered, eyes heavy with pleasure while he continued to kiss on him everywhere he could reach. Louis's cheeks, neck, eyebrow, forehead; none of it was safe from kissing.

 

"Oh yes, s' what I want, daddy." Louis rushed out in one single breath, tightening around the man as the desired heat began to pool in his stomach.

 

Louis was tugging Harry closer, his hands lifted to hold onto the man's cheeks once more. He kissed on him desperately, moaning against his man with each thrust that was delivered.

 

His tongue swiped along the man's lower lip when their mouths met again, taking Harry between his teeth to suppress the whimpers wanting to come out.

 

Louis tugged away to tilt his head back, his eyebrows furrowing and lips parting from the drives into him.

 

It was a beautiful sight; Harry was sure even Monet hadn't created anything more gorgeous. He felt honored to even be breathing in the same room Louis occupied, and here he was opening him up.

 

In his haze, Harry felt the desire to feel every inch of Louis. The grip around his thighs tightened, and his other hand rose from its place to press the pads of his fingers against the skin of Lou's curvy hip.

 

Louis forced his eyes to remain half open as he was pushed into by the other, his thighs surely being bruised by his man's giant hands.

 

  
He lowered his head, breathing ragged, and slowly lowered the boy back down to the floor. Louis's toes touched the floor, planting him back on the ground.

 

Louis whimpered as soon as Harry drew away, murmuring out whiny protests for him. "No, no, no," he mewled, dazed by the pleasureful haze he was in.

 

They were only disconnected for a few tragic seconds before Harry was spinning the smaller male around, forcing him to face the blank wall. Harry pushed his chest forward to Louis's back, pressing him against the wall all over again.

 

A soft grunt escaped Louis as he was pressed firmly against the wall, but he made no effort to stop Harry. His curiosity was peaked.

 

"You've got to hold yourself up," he mumbled quietly before driving back into him, the soft kisses he left across the boy's shoulder blade contrasting with the rhythm of his thrusting hips.

 

Louis's eyes widened at the words, but he had no more time to react due to the sharp drive into him. He nearly collapsed, his legs shaking and quivering with each push into him.

 

His eyes were burning with tears, overwhelmed by the euphoric sensation building within him. His head tilted to the side, allowing for his lips to brush over Harry's jaw.

 

Harry's narrowed eyes watched him closely as he continued to give the presses of his hips, dragging into Louis's pretty hole.

 

Both of his hands were unable to remain in one place, and instead they roamed around every inch of skin. They travelled from the smooth shoulders to the dip before his perky bum before finally settling over the voluptuous hips Louis possessed.

 

"You're so perfect," Harry rattled out, leaning forward so he could revel in the harsh thumping of his chest against his boy's back.

 

Louis was feeling Harry explore his body, and his own hand shifted back to hold onto him by his hair. "Oh daddy, look at yourself," he murmured through heavy moans, his cheek pressed flat against the cool wall of their bedroom.

 

He gave rocks back against the man, taking him in elegantly with each thrust absorbed.

 

"Fuck, Harry!" He called out, his neck tender and sensitive. Harry had decided to punish the crook of Louis's neck some more, whispering breathy words and swiping his tongue and biting at the sweetness.

 

Louis was tugging at Harry's hair harshly, feeling the man's heart beat rapidly against him. A few tears collected in his eyes, rolling down his pink cheeks from the intensity of the thrusts.

 

"Please, oh please," He begged in a whispered, unsure of what exactly he was searching for.

 

Harry's insistence on keeping his pace only served to build up the tension he could feel throbbing on every region of his body.

 

His teeth grazed over the skin on Louis's shoulders, fingers rubbing small circles over his hips. His lanky body covered Lou, one of his hands rising from its place to tug on his silky hair.

 

He hovered his lips over the shell of his ear to kiss him after whispering a few loving words consisting of mostly, "Such a precious baby, my little man."

 

Harry leaned his body weight forward, rocking his body over the boy's as he left a trail of hot kisses down his skin, parting slightly to wet the kiss before moving down the line.

 

Every touch had Louis feeling the hot coil. It grew in his stomach, making his legs feel like jello and his eyes flutter to a close.

 

He was in a transient state of bliss, unable to grasp onto anything. He was desperate to touch and kiss the man, but he could not. All he could do was lean against the wall and force himself to remain standing while he took it.

 

He was weak and overwrought with pleasures, rocking his bum back eagerly against each and every flex of Harry's hips. "I-Harry," he warned the man, feeling his own hard and heavy length against his abdomen.

 

Harry knew immediately what Louis meant, and he nodded in agreement despite the fact the boy couldn't even see. He could feel his own muscles tighten and relax in time with the thrusts he gave.

 

His fingers remained entrenched in Louis's hair, tangling through the long strands and tugging on them.

 

The sound of his skin slapping against his lover's only heated the moment up, and he could also feel the amount of self-control he had slowly diminish as he rocked into Louis, as if each thrust was better than the last.

 

One of Harry's hands dipped to creep in between the delectable thighs, the large digits wrapping around Louis's length to leave gentle strokes around the damp skin.

 

Harry towered a foot above Louis, making the boy feel extra tiny as he was pressed into from behind.

 

Lou was unable to control the little grunts and whimpers he made, his feeble attempt to keep quiet making no prevail. His head was dazed, and he practically collapsed against the wall as his man properly wrecked him.

 

As soon as Harry's hand was touching on him, circling over the head of his cock, Louis could feel himself hit his craved peak.

 

The boy's finish streaked across his stomach and onto his lover's hand. His skin was lit with intimate heat, and he was unable to control the yell of the other's name that left him, followed by incoherent slurs that not even Louis knew meant.

 

Harry gasped lightly just as he felt the warm liquid splutter against his hand, though his hands remained giving him slow, sloppy strokes to ride out his high as he raced towards his own.

  
He allowed his body to set a natural rhythm that was quickly stoking the roaring fire in the pit of his stomach. "Shit," he breathed against Lou's shoulders.

 

Louis's head was spinning, and it was as if someone were flashing lights in his face, for he only saw splotches of light in his blurred vision. "Daddy, oh daddy," he exhaled out, his body aching and spent all on Harry.

 

The sight of Louis coming undone was certainly helping Harry in his own quest for climax. He rolled his hips forwards one last time, feeling every inch of his velvety walls around him.

 

A low groan left him, along with a few whispered "baby's," the explosion of heat inside him sending his body over the edge, stilling as his muscles contracted, lips stilling, too overcome with his outrageous high.

 

His body was covered in sweat, and as soon as he relaxed, he flashed him a lazy grin, showering Louis's skin with wet kisses after to display his affection and appreciation.

 

Louis was spent. His eyes were hazy with the fresh high, weakly latching his arms around his lover's neck. He pressed his lips to his jaw once, collapsing against the man's naked body.

 

Harry couldn't help but laugh breathlessly, his chest still rising and falling quickly. Louis was such a baby. "C'mon, your poor thing." He mocked playfully, leading the boy back to the bed.

 

In his mind, the serene orchestra played. It was a slow, swaying piece. When he was without Louis, the songs in his mind were constantly in minor key—sad, melancholy, dull. Now, it was full of glee in the majorest of keys.

 

They settled into the shared sheets, laying across from one another with panting breaths. Harry was intoxicated by his new drug.

 

They stared into each other's eyes, full of wonder and amazement. Harry wondered what Louis was thinking behind his endless blues.

 

"Be mine," Louis pleaded softly, his voice interrupting the orchestra. The violins ceased in his mind and were replaced with the silky tone of his sexed out lover.

 

Harry drifted towards the thought of all his past women, his past drinks, his past failures. They were in the past because of the present, because of Louis.

 

Sticky, sweaty, and smiling, Harry reeled his dearest lover into his chest and kissed his hair. It smelled like lavender.

 

Harry used to be such a charmer; he could get anyone to fall for him with his sweet talk. Louis was the only person who ever brought him to be speechless. He left him in his own thoughts. He never knew how the boy did it. He wanted to spend the rest of his time figuring it out.

 

"Ever thine, ever mine, ever ours." He whispered carefully into the empty, tucking a piece of Lou's hair behind his ear.

 

The dazzling, deep eyes flickered to peer at Harry curiously, brows furrowing suddenly.

 

"Harry, cut to the chase. Does that mean yes?" He asked excitedly, already shifting to mount his man.

 

Harry laughed.


End file.
